


What We Don't Know

by ShadowBiscuit



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Broken Heart, Desperate Sam, Hurt Sam, M/M, Pity Sex, Season/Series 09 Spoilers, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 03:30:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2135424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowBiscuit/pseuds/ShadowBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“That’s what it feels like when you touch me. Like millions of tiny universes being born and then dying in the space between your finger and my skin. Sometimes I forget.” - Ian Thomas, I Wrote This For You</p><p>Sam can't take it anymore, and confesses to his brother. But what will happen when Dean doesn't push him away, and instead tells him, "Okay. Get on the bed."</p>
            </blockquote>





	What We Don't Know

Ever since Sam Winchester was put in his big brother’s arms, for as long as he could remember it was all Dean. Dean Winchester was his life. He was the loving big brother, the hero Sam has always looked up to, then the burden weighting him down as he grew up, the emptiness in his heart when he ran away, the light in the darkness, and finally, the reason he got up in the morning.

Sam loved his brother, would have died for him in a heartbeat. But living together with his dear big brother for many years made him change. Sam wasn’t sure when it happened, he just knew that his love for Dean was becoming more than brotherly. The friendly touches on his shoulder, rare hugs made him feel happier than ever, his skin burning hot where his brother touched it. Sam knew that it was wrong, falling in love with his own brother, wanting things that would have made Dean want to beat Sam up to a bloody pulp. But he couldn’t stop his feelings, no matter how much he ignored those emotions, the way his body reacted to Dean’s every touch, how his smile made Sam’s heart pound, and if on lonely nights, when his big brother was asleep on the bed next to him, Sam would imagine those firm hands holding him, those beautiful green eyes gazing at him with love, those full, haunting lips whispering sweet nothings in his ear, then that didn’t mean that Dean would have to know about them. What he didn’t know, couldn’t hurt him, after all.

But suppressing his feelings was getting more and more difficult for Sam even though he was trying so hard. He became an addict, to let the demon blood drown his forbidden feelings. He stayed with Amelia, to get distracted from his sorrow over losing the love of his life. He didn’t look for him, because he was selfish, to try and forget Dean. He lied to him when the angel left, to make his brother hate him.

But no matter what he did, no matter where he ran, no matter how much he tried, what he used to make himself forget, to distract himself from Dean, it never worked. It was as if life wanted to tell him that no women could ever replace Dean.

And Sam reached a point where he became desperate, seeing that after his brother turned to an angel, then a vampire, he was now choosing a demon, the King of Hell over him. He felt sick, jealousy, possessiveness, misery, guilt, regret and many other emotions burning in him and he knew that when he burst through the door to Dean’s room and pushed him violently against the wall, he wasn’t thinking clear, was simply acting on instincts in his drunken daze.

His brother, his dear big brother, looked at him wide-eyed, frowning, confusion, worry and anger etched on his face. “Sam, what the hell?” came the low voice, lower than usual. The Mark was changing Dean, turning him into a murderer but even like that, Sam would love him. It didn’t matter who he was, what he was, what kind of person he’d become, Sam’s love for Dean was absolute, unconditional. And right then, even though the older hunter was stronger than him, Sam still dug his fingers in his shoulders as he leaned closer, now mere inches separating their lips, and it would have been so easy, to just close the distance, to feel Dean’s soft lips on his, to taste his brother. But Sam did none of that. Instead, he let the words pour out from his mouth, and when he realized what he was saying, it was already far too late.

“I don’t care anymore, Dean. It has become too much. I can’t lose you, not again, not without telling you that I love you. I love you, Dean, I love you like a brother shouldn’t and I know that it’s fucked up, but isn’t our life already fucked up as is? I’m a freak, now I understand that, but I can’t help it. I love you, I want you and, in my head, you tell me things you’ve never said, because I can’t stop thinking about you. Dean, I’m sorry, I’m _so sorry_ , but-“ Sam blinked away tears, but still ended up breaking down and sobbing as he leaned his forehead against his brother’s, gripping his shirt tightly. “I hate myself, for ever falling in love with you. I just…I wish that I had never done it. Then there would be no need to impress you. No need to want you. No need for crying over you. No need for pains and tears. No need, for everything you’ve done to make me feel like absolutely nothing. But I’m selfish, I want all your love, more than you would give, more than just brothers, so much more. And you can hate me all you want, I would understand, but…just give this. Just for tonight, I’m begging you. I don’t care if it won’t be gentle, I don’t even want gentle, I just want you, Dean,” he clenched his jaw, and looked into his brother’s eyes. “I would give _everything_ , to be your anything.”

Sam waited, for a reaction, for a punch, anything. But as he watched Dean’s face, he couldn’t see anything, there was nothing. Nothing at all. His face was blank, expressionless and when he finally talked, there wasn’t a hint of a single emotion in his voice, either. “Okay. Get on the bed.”

It felt wrong, Dean’s voice, his movements as he followed Sam on the bed, his once beautiful eyes now blank. It made Sam’s heart ache, this pain worse than any before.

But he didn’t tell his brother to stop, lie and say that he was just joking, because it would have been too late for that, and even like this, Sam wanted it. This was his only chance to touch his brother in a way like never before.

He unbuttoned his shirt and kicked his pants off, laying on his back with his face flushed as Dean kneeled in front of him and took his own shirt off and from this angle, Sam could clearly see the strain in his brother’s face, as he was clenching his jaw. Then Dean pulled Sam’s boxers off, before nodding towards the nightstand. “Lube’s in the second drawer.”

Sam fished it out and passed it to his brother, who poured a generous amount in his palm, dipping and covering three fingers in it, then Sam spread his legs when he felt a finger enter him. He moaned at the feeling, pushing back on Dean’s finger, which was moving in and out of him, the second and third fingers added way too soon, but he didn’t mind, as long as it was Dean, all Dean. Sam couldn’t believe it. All his most unreachable dreams were suddenly, so unbelievably, about to come true. But they were forbidden. The right thing to do would have been to pull away, turn from him, and get out of the room. His head screamed at him to flee, but his heart begged him to stay. Sam closed his eyes, his chest heaving as his body felt like it was on fire, and Dean wasn’t even inside him yet. That thought and a finger brushing against his prostate made him open his eyes and cry out in pleasure, begging his big brother for more.

“Dean, please,” Sam whimpered, pulling his knees up and spreading his legs even more, pleading Dean to hurry up. And he did, pulling his fingers away, then began stroking his own cock, which was still flaccid. It hurt, but Sam wasn’t surprised that Dean couldn’t get hard. But soon, he was, and he lined his cock up with Sam’s glistening hole, then seemed to hesitate, though only for a moment, and thrust into his little brother.

He moaned loudly as he felt Dean’s thick cock filling him up, the real thing so much better than Sam’s fingers, than the fantasy. Then he couldn’t stop his voice, the lewd sounds that came from his mouth as Dean began fucking him, thrusting in and out of him in a steady pace, the older hunter also groaning as he fucked Sam. It was so good, yet so horrible at the same time. Sam was finally able to have sex with his brother, but what was making love for him, was a simple fuck for Dean, or even worse since it was his own little brother he had to screw. Had to, because it truly didn’t seem like he was enjoying it as much as Sam. And Sam understood it. He was crying, seemed so desperate, broken when he confessed, that he didn’t leave Dean any other choice, but to fulfill his wish. Yes, Sam understood, and he couldn’t stop his tears as the realization sunk in, how he might have just destroyed their relationship, how this was just a pity fuck for Dean and, even though he was still happy for at least having this, it still hurt so, so much.

And when he grabbed the back of Dean’s neck and tried to pull him in for a kiss, his brother pulled away and slapped his hand away, quickening his pace and making Sam scream, in pleasure, in pain and in sorrow. It only took a few more thrusts from Dean and a few strokes from his own hand, and Sam was coming with a small whine, clenching around his big brother’s dick, also making him come, filling the hunter with his hot come.

It was nothing like Sam imagined. Their first, and no doubt last, time was rough and cold, not slow and gentle like he always fantasized about. They didn’t cuddle afterwards, enjoying each other’s warmth and smiling in bliss. Dean just pulled out of Sam and tucked himself back in his pants, putting his shirt on before going back to what he was doing. He sat down at his desk next to the bed and went through some of the old manuscripts and, as Sam looked at his brother, he saw that his face looked alive again, not like a statue. “So, Cas thinks he’s got some clues about Metatron. Told him to tell us on the phone but he went all paranoid on me, saying that the dude might be listening. Guess our friend has become the new Frank Devereaux,” Dean chuckled, not once glancing at his little brother.

So Dean wanted to pretend that this never happened. That was fine, Sam could do that. It was better than getting kicked out of the bunker, than Dean hating him, than being left alone, again. He cleaned himself up with a tissue and put his clothes back on, then walked out of the room without a word. He just needed a minute, to calm down, to process what happened and then try his hardest to bury it. Then, he could go back to Dean and act like nothing happened, like his heart wasn’t broken.

And Sam was going to do just that, after he was done crying.


End file.
